Chapter 42
The next day was a hive of activity. Soldiers were training, more families were arriving, and the gallows and whipping post were being built. Over by one of the pack ponds, the largest one they had, Tudor and Alex were creating the wooden canoes with strong poles for limb tying.
“It’s a good job this pond is so big so we can do this,” Tudor commented, looking at it.
The pond was huge, with trees dotted around it and wildflowers.
“It’s a lovely spot; at least the shaman will die surrounded by beauty.”
A fish jumped out of the water and went back under.
“And look at that, sweetheart, there are fish in it. They can have a feast.”
“I know he needs to die and this boat part was my idea but are we being fair to him with everything that is going to happen to him should we not kill him quickly?”
Alex pulled Tudor into his arms and dropped a kiss on his head. “I understand where you’re coming from, sweetheart. But yes, he deserves everything that is coming. People died because of him.”
Tudor wrapped his arms around Alex and rested his head on his mate’s chest. “I know,” he said simply.
“How about you find General Gasgoyne and find out who is your best sword fighter and arrange the display with Maletayah?”
“I can do that but you need to kiss me first.”
Alex pulled slightly away, smiling down at him. “Yes, why don’t I?” With that, he dipped his head and kissed him.
Blake and Frederick walked into the cells.
The shaman was lying on his bed, a look of boredom on his face. He sat up as Blake and Frederick walked closer.
“Blake,” the shaman said.
Frederick growled.
“I mean King Blake,” he corrected quickly. “What do you want?”
“I’ve come to inform you, your trial is this afternoon. Which is just a formality; your execution will begin straight after,” Blake told him.
“Begin?” the shaman squeaked.
“Yes. See you later.”
“Wait, what do you mean by begin?”
Blake and Frederick ignored him and walked out of the cells, the shaman shouting questions behind them.
“Thank goodness he’ll be dead soon,” Blake said. “He’ll be no loss to shifter kind.”
“I doubt anyone will miss him. I heard the old council guard general tried to attack Puff yesterday.”
Blake nodded. “Maletayah and Mateo are both fast. Maletayah had Puff wrapped in his steel wings before his sword was fully out of his scabbard. Mateo ripped his heart out. On a different note, Antares, Atticus’ father, is opening a pub.”
Frederick grinned. “Thank goodness. I think everyone will be pleased when that opens.”
“What do you think of the newly promoted General Kent?”
“Seems decent enough, and a welcome addition to our War Council. He also has friends everywhere, some rogues as well. They are all keeping him updated on things that are happening. Rogues have started to come over; a group is apparently due to arrive at the Hayes Pack tomorrow.”
“That’s if Barnabus is still alive and functioning.”
“True. Changing the subject back to the shaman, who is going to flay him?”
“I thought Puff, Tudor and I could, but then realised neither of them would probably want to, especially Tudor.”
“Ask the two Generals; it was their people that died.”
Blake nodded. “I’ll go and find them now. We also need a hangman and someone to castrate and disembowel him.”
“Maybe ask Dr Palmer, as his daughter died during the explosion. As for a hangman, my demons can help with that.”
“Thanks, that would be helpful. I’ll go and talk to Dr Palmer.”
“Do you want some company?” Frederick asked.
“Sure, come on.”